The three
by Linneagb
Summary: *Re-written version* Ryan's thoughts when Trey's leaving. And waking up and getting checked up at the hospital after waking up after he fainted when Trey came in after being shot. He could just never hate his brother, could he?


**I put this up the other night. But had a review from an anonymous person who reminded me about some of Ryan's injuries in the hospital part. So I decided to re-write a bit and then put it up again. I hope you like it. The first and last part are still pretty much the same.**

I would have wanted to shout

I would have wanted to scream, fight, push, kick and hold on tight.

Anything to make my brother stay.

But as I watched him through that greyhound bus window. No sound would come out of my dry throat, and if I moved the tiniest little bit I was afraid I couldn't help myself to run up on the bus and grab Trey.

God knows what would happen if he got stuck here in Orange County. After all he had committed a crime too with trying to rape Marissa. So maybe it was for the best that he just left it all behind and ran away.

And then, while I only stood down on the pavement and watched. Trey then turned his head and saw me.

He raised his hand in a slight wave. I raised mine and forced myself not to make that slight move into one bigger and run towards the bus.

Oh how much of me it took to just stand there.

I could tell the bus driver kept the doors open and the bus still for a few seconds more than needed to check if I was to get on. Then the noises as he closed the doors just seemed so loud. As if they were of my whole world falling apart around me. Which they kind of were anyway.

And then, just like that the vehicle that was taking my brother a million miles away started moving, Trey broke our eye contact and leaned his head back towards the seat. And I… And I… And I….

I couldn't do anything else but to just stay still and watch the greyhound bus with my brother disappear. And after everything I and Trey had been through together, all the memories. Including what had happened only the past few months flashed by and disappeared into nowhere.

 **Flashback**

"Ryan?" I could hear a voice calling my name but it sounded mumbling and distant. "Ryan? Ryan, can you hear me?"

For each second it sounded closer and closer. Yet I couldn't find my own voice to answer the voice yes.

"Ryan?"

My eyes fluttered open but I quickly shut them again when a bright lamp shined right into my eyes and made my head pound ten times worse than it had a second ago. My throat also felt dry and sore and as I tried to take a breath I ended up coughing, it was only that I couldn't take a breath deep enough or gather enough strength to cough for real so I ended up with some dry, hyperventilating panting that shook my already sore ribs.

That was when I felt someone putting their hand on top of my hair and in my fringe in a move to calm me down.

"Ryan?" Sandy's voice. "It's okay. Just breathe." I was still hyperventilating in that kind of weird way but only Sandy's soft touch towards my head and the calm tone in his voice helped. "Sch, sch, sch. It's okay."

My hands clenched hard around the fabric of the covers lying over me. And my ribs ached at every single breath. It was also a good thing I had quite a load of self-discipline to simply force myself to calm down until my breaths were down to somewhat normal and I could relax back towards the hospital bed again.

"Can you open your eyes for me again?"

Slowly, this time around and ready for the bright light around me I slightly opened my eyes. I laid on a hospital bed and on either of my sides sat Sandy and Seth Cohen.

"How are you feeling kid?"

Nauseas, nauseas so to the point it's probably a miracle if I don't vomit within the next few seconds.

"Ugh." I moaned and lifted my hand slightly, whether it was the nausea (that was kind of easing at this point) or something else, I just couldn't find the right words to say while I laid my hand towards my forehead and blonde bangs.

"I think you must have hit your head when you fell."

Wait. Why was I in hospital again?

And why did my throat feel so dry and sore?

That was when everything came crashing down on me.

"TREY." I shouted without thinking, barely knowing my own words or what I was doing while I flew up into sitting position and tried to push Sandy (who had been the one who called my name to wake me up). "Trey. I gotta find him. I've got to find him, let me go."

"No. No." I noticed Sandy was trying to keep me still and calm me down but couldn't take in on why he tried to do that. My brother had been shot and I needed to find him. I needed to know what Marissa had told the cops. I needed to know if he was going to live or not.

"Trey…" My voice was down to barely more than a breath while I continued trying to push something or someone that I barely knew what it was (probably either Sandy or Seth) away at the same time as I forced the nausea down my throat not to throw up. "I need to find Trey."

"OW."

When Seth shouted in agony I seemed to wake up from whatever state I was in. And I slumped back towards the bed I had been put on while unconscious.

I didn't know why Seth had shouted. But right now I only had to concentrate on not vomiting while I held my eyes pressed shut for the light not to burn in my eyes too.

"Ow… You hit me man!"

"Seth, don't. Ryan? Are you still with us kid?"

"Yeah." I moaned while the nausea eased and I slightly opened my eyes again. "How long…" I had to swallow and take a break. "How long was I uncon… unconscious for?"

"About twenty minutes." Sandy told me. "Doctors say it's only normal. You've got nothing to worry about."

"It was kind of scary." I turned my head slightly to see Seth sitting on the other side than the one Sandy was at. "You were there and there were all of these doctors and weird sounds and hospital smell and then you just… you just fell."

"Seth." Sandy interrupted, strictly but kindly I just somehow noticed- just like he always would. "Don't scare him like that. You're going to be just fine Ryan. Now, you've got some wounds that needs to be cleaned and maybe stitched up. But they didn't want to do that while you were unconscious in case it would scare you when you woke up. And they'll take you to X-ray to check if your hand or ribs are broken." And here they come." Two nurses just came into the room and came over to me. One of them was pushing an empty wheelchair in front of him.

"Can you get down and into this on your own or do we have to lift you?"

I shook my head and stepped down, then was overwhelmed by a dizziness spell before I slumped down into the chair and leaned back.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah." I forced another cough down my throat. "I just want to get this over with."

"We can get those x-rays now and right away. Would you like these two to come with you…" One of the nurses gestured to Seth and Sandy. "…Or should they wait here." I shook my head. "Wait here? Well. The cafeteria is closed this time of day… night. But the apartment's lounge is over there. Ask for coffee. Tell them Christopher gave you permission. Or tea if you'd rather want that. Or chocolate, hot chocolate. Or a biscuit. You can ask them for spaghetti if you so want. They've got everything."

"Chris." The other nurse interrupted his friend. "You're forgetting about your job again."

"You're boring Dennis." The one named Chris started pushing my wheelchair in front of him towards the x-ray. "I was just trying to light up this tension a bit."

"You always do…" The one named Dennis gave a deep sigh. "Just come on."

Leaning down so I could see, Chris made a face at his boring friend. I didn't really feel like smiling now and laughing would have hurt like hell. But I was grateful Chris did what he did. And I felt even more grateful when I saw Sandy and Seth didn't look quite as worried now as they had a second ago. Even though Sandy frowned again when he looked down on me.

"It's okay." I barely more than whispered. "You just wait here."

"And off we go." Chris started with pushing me right into the door. Not hard or anything, and I sensed another bad joke. "DENNIS. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR ME AND RYAN WHEN YOU GO FIRST."

"As you know Christopher." I heard behind me. "I am right behind you."

"Oh right. Well… what are you waiting for? Go first you great, big, stupid."

Sandy sighed deeply, but in the corner of my eye I could spot a slight smile on his face while I was wheeled out of the room and into the hallway.

"Do you guys know anything about what happened to my brother? Trey Atwood?"

I didn't get an answer from any of the nurses. And suddenly I wasn't even so sure I wanted one. All of this. And no news could only mean one thing right? Sometimes it was said no news meant good news but what if… what if…

"Hey." Before I had gathered bravery enough to ask the next person I had laid on the bunk for taking x-rays of my ribcage for God knows how long. One woman stood right by me fixing something with the x-ray machine. And her kind looking brown eyes and smile helped me dare again. "Do you know anything about what might have happened to my brother? Trey Atwood?"

"I'm sorry honey but no I don't" The nurse told me while she was walking out of this bit of the room and behind a thick wall. "I know you worry loads and loads and loads. But it won't help you nor him so you just try to relax and not worry. And right now you just need to lay very still, or the x-rays will be blurry and we'll have to do them all over again." She pressed her buttons and the pictures were shot while I closed my eyes and tried to imagine something else then my brother, that gunshot ringing out and God… all of that blood. "Don't fall asleep now. We've only got your hand left to shoot some pictures off."

As if that would happen. I was pretty sure that with these pictures on the insides of my eyelids I would never fall asleep again.

And it was exactly the same feeling that hit me when I was back in the room with Seth and Sandy. I sat in the bed by one wall, and they sat in chairs on either side of me. And I just couldn't… I just couldn't…

God, why did I always have to cause everybody close to me so much worry?

"While we're waiting for the pictures." The doctor came walking up to my bed and I flinched. "Get up, shirt off."

I glared up on the doctor. If it only had been that simple.

"Come on." Sandy gently placed a hand on my back and supported me while I got up. "That's right. Arms up." It was just barely I could, and my arms soon fell back towards my sides. But I had already managed to hold them up for long enough for Sandy to pull my shirt off like I had been a little kid.

Was it just me or was it cold in here?

I shivered. The doctor had pulled plastic gloves on and his fingers felt cold when he studied some of the bigger cuts around my chest, stomach and back. And then shivered again each and every time he touched me again.

"None of them needs stitches." He said at last and gestured for me to sit down again. "But some of them I'm going to tape. You've been lucky. Only one little piece of glass had gotten stuck and it could just as well have been as big as…."

The doctor didn't finish the sentence. And seemed more stressed than ever while he hurried out of the room pulling the gloves off his hand and leaving the room and us with the silence ringing in our years for what must have been a record for how long the Cohen-Atwood's could keep quiet together.

"This doctor doesn't seem very good on doing his job." Seth stated, and I could actually not have done much else than agree even before he said his reasons. "He doesn't seem too sure about what to do or second or third. I mean, you fainted and hit your head and he hasn't said a word about it yet. But he has checked all the wounds on your face and on your back and chest and stomach. But he also seems to scare you. I know he scares me…"

"Seth. Stop that." Sandy scolded his son. "We don't need to worry about that right now and I'm sure everything will work out fine. And I'm sure he has his way of doing things too and…" The doors to the room opened. "…What are the news doc?"

"No broken ribs." The doctor threw the x-ray photos on a table by the wall. "Only bruised, not much we can do about that. Your hand and wrist are badly sprained, but not broken. Two fingers broken. You don't need a cast but I've got a splint for the hand and wrist and one more to hold the fingers together while they heal. I've also got this special kind of wound tape. And I'll start with the wounds so you can take your shirt back on. I can tell you're cold."

I tiredly only stared at the doctor while he was working with his tape and his splints and my body and then hand. All this information just seemed too much to take in at once.

I must have been a million miles away into my own thoughts. Because suddenly I woke up in the bed again. Did I fall asleep? Really?

"You can fall back asleep." Sandy told me gently while I sat up. "You only slept for five minutes or so but you're going to need many hours after all of this… Ryan? Ryan, calm down kid. Calm down."

"I'm fine…" I somewhere in between panted, grumbled and mumbled out of my sore throat. And while I tried to go through what had happened before I fell asleep the thoughts were spinning in my head so badly I couldn't tell one from the other. "…Trey… Marissa. I need to…"

"You don't have to do anything. Not even talk. Marissa already told all of us what happened." I moaned, I had told her not to say anything. "Nobody's blaming you or her. You were both doing what you did in defense. But how the police lets it go on will show in the morning. Marissa got to go home to get some rest. It's time for you to do the same. Just as soon as the doctors take a look on those wounds. And here they come." As on a given signal one male doctor came into the room and started picking out some things from a locker a few meters away from me and then came over.

"Do you know what's going on with my brother?" I asked the doctor before he started anything. "Trey Atwood." The doctor showed me to get up and stand in front of him. And standing up felt a tiny bit easier than what I could remember it doing before sleeping while I held my arms out to my sides to copy him. "Do you? Trey Atwood? Alive?"

"Can you do this?" He asked annoyingly calm. Then bent his right arm and put his fingertips towards the tip of his nose, then the same thing with the other arm and I copied. "Again? Again? That's good. Can you stand with your arms held out like that and close your eyes?" I gave a deep sigh and did as I was told. I swayed a bit and felt Sandy grabbing my arm. But I didn't fall and hadn't been on my way to neither. "That's good. Sit down again." I slumped down on the hospital bed, but didn't say or move on my own before the doctor lit a torch and held it right towards my eyes.

"Ow." I looked away and put my hand over my eye and the side of my head. "God… look, why won't you just tell me what's going on with my brother? Is he…"

I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"No. He's not. I'll go see what more I can find out. But what I do know is that he's been taken into surgery to stop the worse of the bleedings. And that you should do your best not to worry about it. Does this hurt" He started pressing the backside of my head with his fingertips. "Tell me if it hurts." Just then he hit a sore spot and I pushed him away.

"God yes, it hurts. But just… I just want to know more about my brother. Okay?"

For a few seconds the doctor only stood there, fists towards his sides with a distressed frown between his eyes staring at me. Then he sighed at last and started backing towards the door between my room and the hallway.

"I'm going to go and see if I can find something out. Then, when I have. You need to let me take care of you. The wounds in your face needs their fair share of cleaning too and I think you might have a concussion. Alright?"

I hit my arms out to my sides in some kind of confused surrender while I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I didn't know what more to say, and Sandy and Seth didn't seem to be able to either- not that I looked up on them anyway.

"God." At last I sat up after what felt like a year passing by. "What is taking so long?"

As on a given signal the door opened and the doctor came in. I stood up, way too restless to keep still. And it felt like a million years before the doctor finally spoke.

"Like I already said, Trey- your brother is in surgery for trying to stop the worst bleedings. It's a little too soon to tell. But it does seem like the worst part might be over. It will be at least an hour or two before we know more. So you, sit down, sit still, and let me do my job."

Well, hadn't he done a perfectly well job already? Well… maybe…

With a sigh I fell back towards the hospital bunk, still too worried to fully take a breath. But realizing there wasn't anything else for me to do at this point. Sandy and Seth sat down in two chairs by the wall and the doctor grabbed that freaking torch from his pocket.

"Anything else?" The doctor lit the torch again and turned it towards my eyes. "Dizzy? Nausea? Headache?"

"Yes, yes and yes."

"I think you might have a concussion from hitting your head in the floor when you fell. You have also suffered a major trauma. You can go home as soon as I finish this and come back in the morning. You can sleep. But rather not alone so someone is close if anything would happen." He turned to Sandy and Seth. "I'd keep a bucket or a trash can close just to be safe. Come back if the pain gets a lot worse or you can't keep anything, including fluid down."

The doctor reached for something by his side and then started cleaning out the wounds on my nose and by my mouth. I grimaced and hissed when the alcohol wiped burned in the deepest wounds.

"I said sit still." The doctor at last seemed to have run out of patience, grabbed me by the chin and finished his work with one hand. "Now." He put some wound-tape over the wound on my nose. "I've gotten you some meds while I went to check about your brother. These are only some mild sedatives." The doctor handed me a small paper bag. "And here." He handed me another bag. "Painkillers. Take one sedative if you need, but do not take more than two at a time. You can take an aspirin or two if the pain gets any worse. But I think the fact you don't feel much pain at the moment is all the adrenaline running through your veins. And when that wears off…." The doctor grimaced at me. "You'll be in a lot of pain. You might suffer more nausea, bad stomach, dizziness. That kind of things. Come back if you can't keep anything down or…" He looked up on Sandy. "If he starts talking weirdly. Not being able to find the right words, pronouncing them in the right ways, stuff like that. Now. Go home and get some rest. We will let you know if there are any changes."

In English- we'll call when your brother dies on the surgery table.

When I more or less stumbled in between and supporting on Seth and Sandy while we walked out of the hospital the same way we had gotten there. I noticed there were blood stains on the floor.

They made me want to vomit when I thought about how and from who they'd ended up there. And I forced myself to look up and breathe in, as deeply as I could without my ribcage freaking exploding as soon as we were out the revolving doors. But then, I couldn't help but hiss painfully when something just changed.

In the same moment as my shoes towards the pavement outside the emergency room I was once again hit by a dizziness spell and I was pretty sure I'd collapse all over again. While I somehow managed to stumble over to a trash can and threw up.

The sour bile rising in my throat over and over again made my already sore and dry throat burn like fire. And once after every heave I try to breathe in and clear my throat. There was more and I heaved forward throwing up once again.

"Whoa." Sandy had carefully laid his palm towards my back and started rubbing circles. "It's okay Ryan." As on a given signal I lurched forward in the same second as I thought it might be over. "It's okay."

Feeling more nauseas than ever and now painfully dry heaving I lifted one of my shaky hands from the edge of the trash can I reached for something else to grab onto. Which just happened to be the collar of Sandy's shirt while I thought it might be a better idea to lean on him then a trash can. Then realizing the problem with it when I dry heaved again and couldn't help but tense all over.

How did everything, every little piece of my body hurt so much all of a sudden?

I heard the ripping noise in the fabric of the collar when I threw up again and tugged in the shirt. But there were another few seconds before I could look up and see the damage I'd made. I couldn't see any holes or anything, but the top button had ended up God knows where and what I could see was the distressed and worried look on Sandy's face while he continued rubbing my back.

"I'm sorry." It was barely more than a whisper. "Ah." I couldn't help a small moan when I tried to push myself up from leaning heavily against the edge of the trash can. "Oh God." I fell back in the earlier position. My ribs pounding with every breath I took- and even more when I tried to hold it.

"Now, don't say you're sorry." Sandy told me while I was trying to decide whether I could stand on my own two feet or not. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. Are you finished?" I hesitated, then nodded carefully. "Okay, come on." I felt Sandy moving his arm and hand so he held around my shoulders and the other hand on my other shoulder. "Come on. I'll support you."

It happened slowly. My throat was burning, my head throbbing, my ribs aching and my whole body hurting so bad I could have fainted again right then and there. But somehow, leaning more heavily against Sandy's shoulders than my own feet I managed to move one step, then one more, then one more. And one more.

"Just like that." Sandy encouraged me on our way over the pavement towards Seth. "You're doing so well. Whoa… Just like that… One foot in front of the other… I'm here."

 **End of flashback**

And then, just like that the bus had turned around the corner and disappeared out of my sight.

It was as if someone had tightened a belt around my chest, and I couldn't breathe.

A lump was rising in my throat threatening to burst, along with tears burning behind my eyes.

And then, in the middle of it all. I felt Sandy's hand on my shoulder.

I couldn't help it. I couldn't stand the feeling of being alone in all of this. So without any further ado and ignoring how embarrassed I'd feel about this afterwards I turned and leaned against Sandy's shoulder.

There weren't many times I could remember crying, those I did remember were mostly full off 'chin up, it's not that bad.' Or 'act like a man not a baby.' Or 'Ryan, you little crybaby.' Those memories flashing by only made me cry even more.

Sandy didn't say anything. He just held on hand towards my shoulder and the other on my hair. His soft, but steady grip around me spoke more than any words ever could have. As if his arms holding around me was the only part keeping me from falling into pieces right then and there.

And one more thing I might not have noticed until afterwards. But Sandy didn't make any intention of seeming to want me to stop crying or man up or whatever. And with that I only relaxed and let the tears roll for what could have been ten seconds or ten hours.

"I'm sorry." I apologized at last, raised, wiped my cheeks with the back of my hands and watched the spot where I had last seen the bus. As if I stared much enough my brother would magically appear out of the breath. "I didn't mean to break down like that."

I swallowed and drew a deep breath. Suddenly noticing how light the air felt. And whether it was the cold, night air or having gotten something off my chest I didn't know- most likely both.

"Don't say you're sorry kid. You're allowed to cry and there is nothing to be apologetic or ashamed off… Come on." He still held his hand on my shoulder and slowly led me turning around and down the road. "Let's go home."

"I just don't…" I mumbled. "I just don't get it."

"Just don't get what?"

How my brother could still mean so much after everything he had been into. Everything he had gotten me into? About how much I cared for him when he obviously so many times had proved he didn't care for much else than himself. About how I could still… How I could still… How I could still not hate him after everything he'd done and everybody he'd hurt- my friends that he'd hurt.

And then one thing that seemed worse than everything else.

"Nothing."

After all, I hated what my brother had done to Marissa. I hated much what he had done too.

But no matter how much I tried. Or how much easier it would make watching him leave. After everything we'd been through together I just couldn't hate him.

 **So. That's the re-written version. I hope it made more sense now. That obviously wasn't a very good doctor in more than one way or it's just me not being a very good writer. Anyway, I really don't want to go through it all again so… that is all you get haha. I hope you liked it**

 **Random fact (Usually give one, this time three because I couldn't decide on one)**

That part when the doctor does 'can you touch your nose' 'can you stand still, arms out and eyes closed without falling'… Yeah, those things. I've actually been in Ryan's position there once. Honestly you feel kind of stupid when you're only standing right up and down touching your nose over and over again like that.

I originally meant to make this a two shot, one part about when Trey was shot and at the hospital. And one part about when Trey was leaving. But decided to do it like this instead so… I hope you liked it.

The title "The three" is referring too Ryan, Sandy and Trey. Who all have a big part in both of the scenarios in the story. And to the fact that the name Trey means three.


End file.
